


In the Wind

by heretogay



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 04:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11410089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heretogay/pseuds/heretogay
Summary: A short piece of Cordelia's musings after Misty's death.





	In the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Please do me (and yourself) a favor and listen to Lord Huron's 'In the Wind' before reading. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45VdDx-J3_g

I would’ve taken Papa Legba’s hell a thousand times over just to see her smile once more. God, what I would’ve given. To hold her; to tell her how magnificent, powerful, and extraordinary she was. Despite myself, I felt like laughing at the situation. That’s what they always say, don’t they? Tell your loved ones how much you love them before it’s too late. What a huge, cosmic joke it all felt like right now.

I had never known anyone so good, so pure could exist in this fucked up world. Christ, she once even stopped me from swatting a spider on the wall, releasing the tiny thing into the woods in the backyard, instead. Who even does that? She deserved the whole universe but she died thinking she was alone and unwanted, an alien abandoned by her own family. Sure, we had spent a few friendly moments in the greenhouse after her escape from her family and her swamp, and I was sure the coven did offer her a safe haven of sorts, but I felt like she never truly understood how beautiful inside and out she was, after having been disowned by the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally. I understood it to a point though, since my mother wasn’t exactly the parent of the year, but to be burned alive by your own family? I couldn’t not admire her love for life, her will to live, to prevail, to so selflessly give back to this shit earth she was born on. Funny, isn’t it? How the world could be so utterly unfair as to wrest the purest soul of her chance of life when she, out of every living creature, was the most deserving of it.

I was in a trance, completely lost to the track of time and space. I didn’t know how I had ended up on the edge of her swamp – had I walked all the way up here? – in the middle of the overgrown flowers she used to tend to, but it was as if I could hear her in the wind that was gently swaying the foliage. Her laughter, the same ethereal sound that had spilled from her lips with childlike wonder just like when she had revived dying carnations in the greenhouse. _God_ , what I would’ve given…

As much as I wanted her back I knew this world didn’t deserve her. For a moment I had imagined that she would be waiting for me when my time would come, but I had failed to protect her and I soon realized I didn’t deserve her, either. She was a goddess of an otherworldly beauty and I felt hopeless, tainted without her.

Yet, here I was: living, breathing, and she wasn’t. She was dead.

The only thing that kept me going, literally and figuratively, was the thought of her having reached a next world better than this one, an absolute freedom, a paradise she deserved. I walked deeper into what used to be her garden. I didn’t have to imagine hard but I saw her there, just a few steps away, watering flowers and humming a Stevie tune. She didn’t see me but I saw her. I _saw_ her. She wasn’t facing me but somehow, I knew she had that smile on her face. She was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what's up with me and this angsty-ass fanfic (I have a longer one that I semi-abandoned like six months ago, we'll see if I'll ever post it) but I just felt like throwing this tiny one out there. I also have an old PWP fic that I might post if I get a fucking grip lmao. Anyways, reviews are love.


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